


Listen To Your... "Heart"

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And it's sassing Sandor, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Attempt at Humor, Canon Crack!AU, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I mean INCREDIBLY Silly, Jiminy Cricket!, POV Sandor, Seriously Silly, Silly, There is a talking appendage!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 14,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5637226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ Prompt: SanSan Fest 2015 - 27. Kings Landing crack!AU. Sandor's cock starts to talk to Sandor. And due to his size, he's far more self-confident than the rest of Sandor. Only he's also extremely. .. demanding and drives Sandor nuts and into embarrassing situations. No matter what Sandor does to appease his member: it becomes clear that he'll only find peace inside a certain little bird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He speaks!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maracuya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maracuya/gifts).



> Beta'd by SassyEggs...more or less. Any mistakes in it are probably my fault.
> 
> Originally intended this as a quick one-shot. Yeah, no...that's not what happened. Most of the chapters are short. I'll post them up as quickly as I can.
> 
> 01/05/2017 Gifting to Maracuya, since she was the one that submitted the prompt in the first place. :)

It had been a long day. Screams from the little bird’s room early in the morning, she had been having another nightmare, it turned out. The rest of the day had involved following the king around and watch him pick the wings off of flies, so to speak, and pluck some feathers as well. He had not been in a good mood when he had gone to bed and now the voice waking him up was unwelcome, to say the least. 

**_Oi, ya bloody div! Wake the fuck up!_ **

Sandor squinted at the darkness. “Wha--? Who’s there?” He rolled onto his stomach, grabbing his dagger from where it lay on the side table. A white bell shaped flower lay next to it and was knocked off, a gift from the little bird last night after the evening meal.

**_Get the fuck off of meh, ya dog! Yer bloody heavy!_ **

Immediately, he rolled off the bed and looked at the sheets. There was no one there, of course. He yanked the mattress off the frame. He could see the stone floor through the slates, still no one. “Must have been dreamin’,” he said to no one in particular.

**_Ya were, just not about meh. Well, sort of about meh, specifically about meh being inside that fine little red-headed lass. What was the name? Little bird?_ **

Sandor’s eyes went wide. “Come out now and I’ll only beat the bloody pulp out of ya! Make me search for ya and I’ll cut ya from navel to nose!”

**_Oh that’s a fine greetin’. Ya say that to yer hands too? Or what about that ugly mug of yers? Ya should show some respect to the best part of ya._ **

“Show yourself!” he roared.

**_Ya daft div. Look down._ **

Sandor looked down. He had fallen asleep naked, which explained why his ass was so cold. His cock bobbed up and down on its own.  **_Mornin’!_ **

Sandor blinked. “You’re fuckin’ me.”

**_No, physically impossible. But that little bird on the other hand…_ **

“Shut up!”

**_What’s wrong? Don’t think ya can get her? Just let meh out, ah’ll convince her._ **

“Bloody hells, don’t you dare even--”

A knock on the door interrupted him. “Hound? You alright in there? Who are you talking to?”

“Go bugger yourself with a hot poker, Oakheart,” he shouted through the door. He heard the mumblings of the other man and then retreating footsteps.

**_That was rude. He was just concerned about ya. Yer talking to yourself, afterall. Did ah mention no one but ye can hear me?_ **

“This cannot be happening…” he muttered and sat down on the bed. The last thing he remembered was dreaming about the little bird, her flame red hair drifting around her on a breeze from a waterfall, her feet dipping into the water as she began to walk into the pool beneath the waterfall, her dress disappearing the deeper into the water she walked…

**_Oh yes, that’s the dream! Ah particularly like the part where she swims around us, and wraps her legs around yer waist, giving meh full access to her sweet, warm--_ **

“Will you shut up?!” Sandor yelled at his crotch.  _ This is going to be a long day, _ he thought.


	2. Distraction

Sandor shifted uncomfortably. Before his shift, he had made himself come, not once, but twice, and the little, well, not so little, annoyance between his legs wasn’t any weaker. It was the only time ejaculating had brought more misery than relief, physically and mentally. It wouldn’t shut up about the little bird. Sandor had decided to spite it by not using her in his fantasies, but it hadn’t worked. He felt dirty and awful, and his cock was still very much erect. 

Now he stood in the throne room, no Sansa to at least look at, and his cock was rambling about how he wouldn’t fuck most of the people Sandor could see.  _ How in the seven hells did it gain the ability to speak anyway? _ The little cunt of a king was using the petitioners as entertainment. His attention was already waning.

**_Where’s the little bird?_** It was the seventy-fourth time it had asked.

_ Is that all you can think about? There are plenty of other cunts in this room alone, plus all the cunts out in the whole of King’s-- _

**_Ya really think anyone will do? Tch, no wonder ya haven’t gotten her yet._ **

“Dog.”

_ What was that?! _

**_Ya heard me, div! Let meh at her and ah’ll have her in our bed sooner than a--_ **

“DOG!!” Joffrey shouted.

“Yes, your grace?” Sandor said sullenly.

“I’m done here. Escort me out.” The boy king rose from the throne, his mother taking his place to see to the rest of the petitioners. Sandor followed two paces behind him.

**_Definitely would not fuck this twat. Or his mother. Shrivelled cunts, the both of ‘em._ **

_ Will. You. SHUT. UP?! I will be taking care of you once we get back to my room. _

**_Ah think ah’d be fine with him watching. Maybe if he was tied to a chair, near the bed, then the little bird faced him. Ya could crawl on top of her, take her right in front of the king, let the boys hang loose as I slide in and out, let them smack her ass with every thrust. That smarmy little boy king would get a great view of us completely dominating the little bird! Ah know ya like the idea. Whoa, watch out, ah’m about to--_ **

The clang of his cock hitting the inside of his armor was noticeable in the quiet of the hallway. The king turned and stared at Sandor, who said nothing and acted like he hadn’t heard it. The boy shook his head and continued walking.

_ For fuck’s sake, it’s not like there’s nothing between you and the metal! _

**_Ah really want to fuck her._ **


	3. This Is Concerning

The king dismissed him as soon as they arrived at the royal chambers. Sandor walked as quickly as he could, considering his cock was completely hard and happily singing about fucking the little bird and how glorious it would be.  _ You’re off key. _

**_\--sweet ‘n tight and oh so light._ **

**_She tastes of honey_ **

**_don’t want no money_ **

**_That little bird is mine~_ **

_ I hate you so much… _

**_No ya don’t. Oh, ah smell a sweet cunt._ **

_ What are you talk-- _

“Oh! It’s you!” he heard from the side hallway. He turned to see the object of his cock’s obsessions. The painful throb he felt made him think that the damn thing was trying to wave at her.

_ How did you...you know what, I don’t want to know. We’re leaving. _

**_What?! No! Ah don’t want to._ **

Sandor began to walk away, his cock banging against his stomach as it was trying to stop him. “Are you alright, ser?” she asked.

He turned on his heel, snarling, “How many times do I have to tell you, girl?! I’m no--”

“I know!” she cried, jumping back a bit. “But...I don’t know what else to call you. You don’t like being called ‘my lord’, either.”

He frowned. “Call me Hound, or dog. Everyone else does.”

She scoffed. “If everyone else jumped into the moat, would you want me to do that as well?”

**_Depends, would ya be fully clothed, dressed in a shift, or completely--_ **

_ Don’t even go there. You’re hard enough as it is. _

“No, I suppose not. I have a name, you know. You can use that.”

**_Especially if we’re alone. Tell her to call us Sandor!_ **

“So, I may call you...Clegane?” she asked doubtfully. He nodded. “Or...Sandor?” she asked, letting the “dor” roll off her tongue a little. He swallowed nervously and nodded. No one called him Sandor.

**_Gods, ah love how she says that._ **

_ I don’t believe in the gods. Any of them.  _

**_Well, ah’m not ye. Ah’ll say what ah like. And ah’d like for her to say our name while I’m deep inside her, filling her up with--_ **

“Is there something you needed, little bird?” he asked, attempting to ignore his rambling cock.

“Oh, no, I was just concerned about you. You seemed out of sorts in the throne room.”

**_She was there? Why didn’t ya point her out?!?!_ **

“I didn’t see you there,” he said, frowning. Usually, he was better at knowing where she was.

“I was at the back, stuck behind Lollys and her mother Lady Stokeworth,” she explained. 

**_Ugh, that stupid cow and that fat cow? Would not fuck. Even if they came as a set._ **

“I could see you, sort of, and you just seemed...um, bothered by something? No one else seemed to notice, but...I thought that...maybe...I should check on you?” she seemed nervous.

_ Fuck, I still scare her. _

**_There, there, little bird. Ah’ll comfort ya. Push her against the wall, kiss her and flip her skirts up._ **

_ That’s called rape, you idiot. I’ll NOT be like my brother. _

**_Not rape if she’s willing, ya div. And she’s willing. Trust me. Ah can tell._ **

_ You can… Never thought my own cock would be a bloody liar. _ He clenched his jaw in anger.

**_Ah ain’t lyin’! Also, she’s staring._ **

_ What? _

**_She. Is. Staring. Ya. Div. Ya haven’t said anything for awhile. Not like she can hear this conversation._ **

_ Fuck me… _

**_Really, ‘cause ya seem opposed to it._ **

Sandor ignored the snark and looked at Sansa. She was indeed staring, a look of concern on her pretty face.

“Sa-Sandor,” she stuttered, her face turning pink from her nervousness, “Are you alright? I can walk you to your room, make sure you get there...”

“It’s alright, girl. I’ll be fine,” he growled and turned on his heel. 

**_Rude! Ya should have let her. We walk her to her rooms often enough, it would be nice if it were the other way around. Then once we get there, ya invite her in, give her a bit of wine, light a candle to set the mood…_ **

_ It’s the middle of the day and I’m not a bloody romantic. No wine for her. No mood lighting for you. _

**_Yer a downer. Don’t know what she sees in ya._ **

_ Nothing, you bloody idiot. She sees nothing. _


	4. Fantasies

Slamming the door behind him, Sandor shucked off his armor, letting it clatter to the floor.  _ Few more dents in it won’t hurt, _ he thought morosely. He stripped down to nothing, letting the sun that filtered in through the window warm his skin.

**_Oh, that feels nice._ **

“Always enjoyed the feeling. Almost never get to feel it,” Sandor said. In the privacy of his room, he preferred speaking aloud to his cock. It made him feel a little less insane.

**_Still say ya should have let her come with._ **

“We’re not going over this again. You can’t have her. Neither of us can. She belongs to the crown, to the king.”

**_She belongs to herself. And she’s willing to share with us! How can ya not see that? Are ya daft?_ **

“No, I’m realistic.”

**_Pessimistic, ya mean._ **

“Same thing.”

**_Gods, how’d ah get stuck with someone like ya? If ya were just a wee bit more accommodating, the little bird could be in this room with us right now. Probably as naked as we are. Ah can just picture it. The sun shining down on her, really bringing out the red of her hair. Ah wonder what she looks like down there? Is it trimmed? Is it wild? Is it silky? Is it course? Ah’m thinkin’ trim. She’s a lady, afterall. Probably course though. Ah like a bit of texture._ **

“Oh fuck,” Sandor exclaimed and fell on the bed, taking his throbbing cock in hand. He grabbed a small oil skin from where it was hidden near his bed and dripped a bit onto his cock.

**_Oh, yes, ah like this part. Ya can see her when ya close yer eyes, can’t ya?_ **

“Yes,” he admitted.

**_What is she doing?_ **

“She’s...wait, why am I telling you this?” Sandor furrowed his brow at his cock. It bobbed to the left slightly, as if it was considering its answer.

**_Just go with it. Ah’ll settle down a bit more than from that fumblin’ this mornin’. Close yer eyes and describe it outloud._ **

“Fine, whatever.” He settled into the bed and closed his eyes, one hand on his cock, the other on his balls. He started with slow, long strokes up and down his shaft. “She’s sitting on the throne, on some furs, wearing only her shift. She’s...got a crown on her head. Not that gaudy piece of gold the king wears. This is a thin silver circlet. She looks so regal, like a real queen even though she’s dressed so scantily. We’re the only ones in the throne room, and there’s sunlight streaming in, all of it focused on the throne so she’s bathed in sunlight. She beckons me to come forward. I do. She pulls the hem of her shift up to her knees, then hooks both of her legs over the armrests so that all I would have to do is move the shift to see her, to enter her.” He squeezed the bottom of his shaft and pulled with long strokes up. His breathing was becoming more erratic, but he kept speaking. “She asks me to approach the throne, and to kneel in front of her. Once I do, she raises the hem of the shift, so that I can see her cunt. She takes her finger and begins to tease herself. Her face is a little pink, from embarrassment, but she keeps going. I can see her clit, a little hard nub. She’s stroking it lightly with the one finger. Her other hand has pulled down the neckline of her shift, exposing her tits. I saw them, that day in the throne room. I tried not to, but I saw them, and they’re perfect. Not too big, not too small, with dark pink nipples, just right for sucking on. She’s playing with her tits as well. Oh, fuck, she’s licking her own nipple, sucking on it as she massages the flesh. Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck. _ She’s close, you can see it on her face. She’s moaning, so fuckin’ loud, it’s echoing in the throne room. Fuck, she’s saying my name, she’s coming, she’s  _ coming!” _ he gasped as his seed spilled onto his stomach. He gave it a few more strokes, prolonging the pleasure before he became too sensitive. 

**_Good job. Ah would’ve envisioned fuckin’ her on the throne, but it’s progress._ **

Sandor relaxed on the bed, his cock finally complacent for the first time all day. Suddenly, he sat up.

**_Something wrong?_ **

“Did you hear something?”

**_No._ **

He frowned. “Must have been my imagination.”


	5. Dog Walking

Dinner was a bore. Joffrey was making snide comments about Moonboy and Dontos’ new act together. Sansa was sitting beside him, seemingly paying half attention to all three of the fools. His cock hadn’t really said anything since he had pleasured himself earlier that. He had hoped it was the end of it, but as soon as Sansa had appeared, he could hear faint lewd singing again. It was annoying, though still significantly calmer than earlier.

_ Should just be grateful no one else can hear you. _

**_~let’s talk about sex, birdy_ **

**_let’s talk about ya and meh~_ **

_ Idiot. _

**_~All through the night_ **

**_Ah’ll make luv to ya_ **

**_Like ya want me ta~_ **

_ You can’t sing for shit. _

**_Rude._ **

**_~Ah may be bad but ah’m perfectly good at it_ **

**_Sex in tha air, ah don’t care, ah love the smell of it~_ **

_ For fuck’s sake… _

**_~STICKS AN STONES MAY BREAK MAH BONES_ **

**_BUT CHAINS AN WHIPS EXCITE ME~_ **

_ Seriously grateful no one else can hear your muck. _

**_So the idea of tying up the little bird does nothing for ya? ‘Cause ah beg to differ._ **

_ Fuck… _ He grimaced as he felt his cock begin to stiffen.

**_And what about the idea of her tying YOOOOO up? And having her wicked way with ya?_ **

Another dull clang against the metal, despite the clothing in between his flesh and the armor. Fortunately, the clamor of the dining hall was loud enough that no one seemed to notice.

**_That’s what ah thought._ ** His cock was way too smug for Sandor’s liking.

_ I will rub one out as soon as I get back to my room, and you will shut the fuck up if you know what’s good for you! _

“Dog,” the king said, interrupting his thoughts. “My lady seems to have drunk too much wine. Escort her back to her chambers. Then you are dismissed for the remainder of the night.”

Sandor looked down at Sansa, and indeed, her hands were unsteady as she held her wine cup and her face was very red. She seemed sleepy as well, keeping her head down.

**_Oh! Idea! Carry her!_ **

Sandor ignored the “helpful” suggestions his cock proceeded to put forth. He followed Sansa as she shuffled down the hallway, his cock throbbing with excitement as it continued declaring ideas.

**_\--at that alcove, ya could just step in there with her, just smooch a little. Ya don’t even have ta dry hump. C’mon! Give meh something to work with here!_ **

_ No. _

**_Daft div. If ya don’t make a move, and SHE doesn’t make a move, how in the Seven Hells are ya going ta be with her?_ **

_ I’m not, and that’s tha-- _

Sansa tripped on an uneven stone. Sandor’s hand shot out on reflex and caught her, pulling her against him, her back to his chest.

**_WRAP YOUR ARMS AROUND HER!!_ **

_ NOT HELPING. _ He ground his teeth, fighting the urge to do just that. She was pressing against his erection, his cock giving her helpful advice on how to move despite knowing she couldn’t hear it. Even without its help, she was practically grinding against him in a way that would make him spill his seed sooner rather than later if she didn’t stop soon. She turned to face him, her eyelids drooping from the over consumption of wine. She threw her arms around his neck.

“I can’t walk anymore. My legs feel like jelly,” she whispered, before beginning to slump down. He caught her by the waist, and easily hefted her into his arms. Her eyes were closed, her breathing harsh and somewhat shallow. He sighed in frustration and his cock gave a shout of triumph. He began walking, looking down at her every so often. No one gave them much notice, knowing the loyal Hound would never do anything to the king’s betrothed.

**_But ya want ta._ **

_ Shut up. _

**_One kiss. Wake her up a little bit and give her one kiss._ **

_ No. _

**_Why not?_ **

_ Because you won’t stop your yammering with one kiss. One kiss will lead to two, and then three and then who knows where. _

**_That’s the idea. Why are ya fighting it?_ **

_ Because it’s not right! _

**_What’s not right about it?_ **

Sandor gritted his teeth.  _ She’s a highborn lady. I’m the second son of a minor house. There’s no way I could ever have her! So why bother pretending?! It will only lead to heartache. _

His cock finally shut up, leaving him to stew in silence.


	6. Sleep Talking

Her room was empty of handmaidens to hand her off to. Sandor felt like an intruder, stepping into her space uninvited. She had snuggled against his chest, her cheek pressed against his armor. While his cock was still remaining silent, Sandor could still feel the smug happiness radiating from it. He wanted to roll his eyes, but the gesture would have been futile.

Carefully, he lay her down on the bed. Her arms went back up to his neck, refusing to part. She was surprisingly strong when he tried to remove her limbs from his person. “No,” she whined. “Don’t go.”

“Let go, little bird. It’s not the Knight of Flowers you’re holding on to,” he whispered gently.

“I know,” she whispered back. He frowned. Her eyes were still closed.

“It’s not King Joffrey either,” he said.

“Thank the gods,” she sighed.

He was still frowning. “I can’t think of who else you might believe me to be, little bird.”

“Sandor~” she said happily. His shock was her opportunity. She was able to pull him down onto her bed easily, kissing him full on the mouth. “You taste like heaven, Sandor. And you smell good. Like leather, metal and hard work.” Her eyelids fluttered open slightly.  _ Bedroom eyes. _ He had heard the term before, but never thought he’d be on the receiving end of it.

“Drunk little bird, you don’t know what you’re saying,” he groaned, attempting to leave the bed.

She pouted. “Not drunk, it’s just all so clear now,” she said, resisting his departure. “Stay with me. Or take me with you.”

“I can’t, little bird. Or the king will have both our heads.” She let go reluctantly.

“But you do want to?” she asked softly.

_ Fuck. _

**_Just tell her the truth. She won’t remember if she’s drunk._ **

He sighed. “Yes. I do.”

She placed her hand on his ruined cheek. “Ok. Goodnight, Sandor.”

He allowed himself another kiss, this one to her forehead. “Goodnight, little bird.” He expected the walk back to his own room to be wearisome and full of complaints from his cock, but he reached his bed in complete silence.

True to his word, he took himself in hand, this time to thoughts of what could have happened if he had taken her with him. His cock was crowing by the end of it.


	7. No More Balking

**_Up an at ‘em!! We have a heart to win!_ **

“Fuck off,” he said groggily. “This is my only free day this sennight. I’m going to sleep in, then in the evening, I’ll go to Silk Street to get completely drunk and find a whore.”

**_What?! No! Bad! Ah refuse. Ah will only accept the little bird around meh._ **

Sandor flipped onto his back. “I’ll end up dying of old age before that happens. You’ll take what is given to you and no more.” His cock was making a tent in the sheet. It bobbed to the sides. It almost look angry.

**_She was willing to give ya more, ya daft div! YOO were unwilling to take it!_ **

“She was drunk. I wouldn’t take anything like that from  _ any _ woman who was drunk.”

**_Fine. That’s fair, ah suppose. BUT, she won’t be drunk forever. What are ya gonna do if she approaches ya sober?_ **

“She won’t.”

**_The gods cursed meh when they gave meh you. Ya would have to find her on yer bed, begging you to have your way with her. Or better, ordering you to let her have HER way with you._ **

_ Why you little… _

**_Just get the damn oil already. Now, ya div, what do ya think she would order ya to do first? Ah think it would be a full body rub down...with yer tongue._ **

Sandor nearly spilled the oil in his haste.


	8. Date? Sort of...No Whores Damnit!

He cursed mentally when he saw the little bird heading towards the godswood. After satiating his cock twice with the supposed orders of the little bird, he found he could not get back to sleep. He had gotten dressed so that he could at least spend part of the day getting some errands done. Thanks to his lusty companion in his breeches, he was running low on oil and needed to get more. He had hoped to avoid Sansa Stark, but there was no way he could turn away from her now. Trant was following her, quickly closing the gap though the girl had not yet noticed.

_ Fuck everything! _

**_What’s going on?_ **

_ Trant. He knows I’m off today, so he’s taking a chance and trying to replace me in one of my duties with the little bird. _

**_No! Stop him!_ **

_ No shit. _ Sandor strode up to Sansa. She turned, as if sensing his presence. Trant scowled, but turned and walked in the other direction.

“Clegane!” she said happily. “Have you come to walk me to the godswood?”

**_Ah like it better when she calls us Sandor._ **

_ No helping it. She’s a proper little bird, and there are others beside Trant around. _ “Of course. Doubt you’d be able to find it without me.”

“Isn’t today your day off?” she asked shyly. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from...whatever it is that you do on those days.” She blushed, keeping her eyes on his mid-section.

**_She knows! Retreat! Wait, no, don’t retreat! Ask her if she’d want to join ya._ **

_ I am NOT taking her to a brothel to drink! _

**_What was it that ya said earlier? NO SHIT. Ah meant, ask if her she’d like to be with ya in OTHER activities. Ah’m up for anything that doesn’t involve whores and DOES involve her._ **

_ Ugh…She won’t say yes, you know. _

“Sandor? Are you alright?” she whispered. He looked down at her, suddenly too close as she peered up at him with concern on her pretty face. His idiotic cock became semi-hard.

“Yes, I’m fine. I was just wondering….”

**_Such lovely lips, kiss me, little bird!_ **

_ Shut. Up. _ “...would you like to go to the market with me?”  _ Shit. _

**_Yes!_ **

_ I didn’t mean to say that. _

**_Too late!_ **

“I would love to, but…” Sansa trailed off. He grit his teeth in anger.

_ I told you! _

**_Now just wait a minute..._ **

The Hound was getting ready to snap at her, as his cock, at the entire world if he had to, but she spoke, “I don’t think the queen or the king would let me out of the Keep.”

_ Oh...right. _

**_Oi, ya completely forgot about them?_ **

“Leave them to me, little bird. Let’s get you to the godswood for right now.”


	9. Vagina dentata

He left Sansa in the godswood while he went to speak to the queen. Cersei was in a mood. Not surprising, considering the missive in her hands. “Hound, what do you want?” she asked, not looking up.

“Lady Sansa would like to go to the market. I happen to be going there myself. I can accompany her.”  _ Always better to state intentions than ask permission with this one. _

**_Would not fuck. She looks like she would tear a man’s dick off with her cunt._ **

_ I would not bet against it. _

“How kind of you,” Cersei drolled. “And why would I let the little dove leave the Keep for any reason? She could easily be kidnapped.”

“Not if she’s with me, she won’t,” Sandor said. “She’s getting antsy. It’s like dogs, give ‘em a little bit of slack, and they won’t be pulling at the leash as much when you bring them back in.”

The queen stared at him. “You just compared her to a  _ dog _ ?”

**_That does seem a bit much, even for ya._ **

He shrugged. “If the analogy fits. She is a wolf, if the Stark sigil is to be believed. Wolves are cousins to dogs. My point is, she’ll relax and not be so troublesome if she’s given a bit of freedom now and again. Controlled and closely monitored, of course.”

Cersei pondered this.

**_Do ya actually believe that shite?_ **

_ Somewhat, but not in regards to the little bird. She’s not troublesome in the least, but Cersei needs a reason to let her out of the keep. _

“Fine, just make sure she’s back by evening meal.” Cersei waved her hand in dismissal.


	10. We're Off!! (Our Rockers)

“Keep your hood up, no need to attract unwanted attention,” Sandor growled as he yanked the fabric over her head. 

“Yes, Sandor,” she said dutifully. 

He had told her to dress in her drabbest colors, but even the dark brown frock and cloak she wore did not detract from her beauty. His cock was pleased by the cleavage displayed by the too small dress and was currently humming happily.  _ Would it really kill them to give her a few coins for new dresses? She’s on display for the world to see! _

**_For right now, just for us ta see. Wouldn't mind sliding in between those beauties._ **

She wrapped her arm around his as they walked through the market area. “Thank you for bringing me with you. I promise to not be a bother.”

“Just keep your head down and stay near me at all times, got that?” he said, more gruffly than he intended.

Fortunately, she either did not notice or did not mind. “Yes, Sandor.”

**_Can ya imagine her saying that again, but more breathy and when she’s atop us, those lovely lips parting as she says our name over and ov--_ **

_ I will punch you if you don’t behave. _

**_Rude!_ **

_ Just try me.  _ His cock remained silent.  _ I’d like to go at least an hour without needing to take myself in hand. _

**_But it’s fun! Ya like thinking about her, don’t ya._ **

Sandor ignore him.

**_Can’t lie ta meh, ya div. Fine. Ignore meh. Ah wanted to sing anyway._ **

**_~Mah milkshake brings all da boys ta the yard_ **

**_An their life, is betta than yers~_ **

_ What in the seven hells is a milkshake? _

**_Ah dunno. Bouncing tits of a wet nurse?_ **

_ Idiot. _


	11. The Wife Of The Hound

He had known that taking Sansa to the market would be a bad idea. Men were staring at her as they walked through the crowds. The stall to get more oil was packed with even more men. Men who would give their eyeteeth to “accidentally” touch the lovely little bird.

**_Can’t take her in there._ **

_ But I need that oil. Well, I guess I don’t NEED it, but it certainly helps keeping up with your demands. _

**_Ya could ask the little bird for help instead, either by using her mouth or my personal preference, her cu--_ **

“Sandor,” she spoke up. He looked down at her. She was a little red, embarrassed to ask, “May I visit that fabric stall? I can’t purchase anything, but I would like to at least look. It’s two stalls down and across the aisle from that very busy one.” She pointed to the stall that sold the oil he wanted. He looked over the fabric stall. A few women, no men, and he could keep an eye on her from there.

“Alright, but no wandering off.”

“No, of course. I wouldn’t want to stray too far from your protection,” she admitted. “Not after last time.”

**_Last time?_ **

_ The bread riot.  _

**_Oh…right._ **

“If you’re a good little bird, I’ll treat you to a pastry afterwards. I know a decent shop nearby.” She nodded happily and went to inspect the fabrics. Before he left, he motioned to the woman in charge of the stall.

“Hound,” she said tersely.

“Here,” he handed over some coins. “Let the girl pick out three bolts and whatever else she needs. Have them delivered to the castle later. If you need more to cover it, I will pay when I get back, but I better not find out you cheated me,” he growled.

The woman gave him an insulted look. “I would not sully my reputation just to get a few measly coins from you. The girl will have her fabric and notions at a fair price.”

**_Oh, ah like her. Would not fuck, but still._ **

Sandor had to agree. He pressed another coin into her hand. She looked at him questioningly. “To keep any unwanted away from her.”

The woman looked over at Sansa, who smiled shyly, unaware of what was being said. Looking back at Sandor, she replied, “Your wife is in good hands here. She will be safe. Have no worries, Hound.”

He nodded to her and walked away. It wasn't until he was at the other stall that he realized the woman's mistake. 

**_Not the worst thing in the world for people ta think the little bird is yer wife._ **

_ I’ll correct her when I get back over there.  _

**_What?! Booooooo! Yer no fun._ **

_ Hopefully the woman won’t say anything to the little bird.  _

**_And if she does?_ **

_ Well, it’ll be awkward, but she’ll probably explain the misunderstanding herself. No woman wants to be claimed by the Hound.  _

The stall he was at sold a variety of items, the oil was merely one of them, catering to male customers. The proprietor had a second stall nearby that catered to females and was run by his wife, though both had the same inventory. His cock started singing again while he waited, through it stuck to the normal songs he was used to, like The Dornishman’s Wife. It took a while, but when it was finally his turn, he requested the unscented oil and handed over the coppers to the merchant. 

“Hound! How good to see you again!” the merchant, a man named Ahmad, said jovially as he accepted the payment. He was from Mereen, and had never flinched when looking at Sandor. He had once confided that he had seen much worse in the fighting pits, before his now wife had bought his freedom. “I see that you are accompanied today. Such a lovely young lady. Your wife?”

_ Why is everyone assuming that today? _

**_Ya do make a good pair._ **

_ Not helping.  _

“She’s no--”

“I have a nice new scent that I believe would suit her,” Ahmad interrupted. He thrust a small glass vial into Sandor’s hand. “Here. Take a whiff. It is perfect, no?”

Sandor sniffed the bottle. A light floral fragrance tickled his nose. He couldn't place it, but it did suit her. “It is. What is the scent?”

Ahmad smiled. “I am good at my work! It is from blue rose of the North. Very rare down here. I received a shipment of live plants last month. The flowers, eh, they did not transfer well, but I was able to create this mix from what I had. Would you like it for your wife?”

Sandor nodded, ignoring the fact that he should be correcting Ahmad, not buying oils for his not-wife. 

“Then take it. Consider it a late wedding gift.” Sandor started to protest, but Ahmad raised his hand and said, “No, I insist. You are not a frequent customer but you are one of the better ones. Just don't let anyone else know, eh?” Ahmad winked at him conspiratorially. “Now go, she is waiting for you.” Sandor turned to find Sansa staring at him from the fabric stall, a small smile on her face. 

He walked over to her, the blue rose oil stuffed into his pocket. “Ready to go little bird?”

“Yes, Sandor. Thank you.” She laced her arm around his. 

“For what?” he asked. She motioned for him to lean closer. He winced, his burned side being the one facing her, but leaned down to hear her whispers.

She surprised him by kissing his cheek. “For buying the fabric. And lending me your protection,” she whispered. “The proprietor told me no one would try anything with the Hound’s wife. So, thank you for that.”

“You didn't correct her?”

She looked up at him curiously as they began to make their way to the Keep. “Why would I do that after you told her? That would have exposed the lie.”

“I never told her we were married.”

“Oh! She assumed then. Well, no harm done.” Sansa kept her gaze straight ahead. “So, will we be visiting the pastry shop you spoke of?”

Sandor chuckled. “The little bird lied about being married and still expects a treat.”

She pouted. “I thought I was helping you! It seemed reasonable when I was worried about being alone.”

He laughed. She did have him there, though she should have known he wouldn’t lie about something like that. He didn't have the heart to remind her, and it made him happy to pretend that she was fine with being his wife. “Alright, alright. That's fair. C’mon. The shop is over here.”


	12. Nameday Presents Are Always Welcome

**_Just give it ta her already._ **

_ Shut up. I’m working on it. _

The blue rose oil was in his pocket, wrapped as carefully as he could manage, and had been there for the past few days. Sansa was sitting with the Queen and the queen’s handmaidens. Stannis was nearly to King’s Landing, any day now the call to arms would sound, and should he not make it through the battle, he wanted to give her the present beforehand. Finally, he was called in to escort her away from the queen.

“Sandor,” she said in a low voice. She had taken to calling him by his first name more often, but when around others, she had to say it in a whisper or low enough that no one else could hear her. He liked hearing it like that.

“Little bird,” he replied, a slight twist in his scars that made up his half-smile. She had learned to recognize it, and returned the smile. They walked in silence. She was being aimless again. He didn’t mind, though his cock had started singing again, which was annoying, but Sandor had learned to tune him out for the most part. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small drawstring bag that held the blue rose oil.

“Sansa,” he said. She stopped walking and turned to look at him. He didn’t know what to say, and shoved the bag in her hands. “For you. Uh, nameday present.” Her eyebrows went up in amusement. “Late nameday present.” She laughed at that.

“Very late, but thank you, Sandor.” She opened the bag and pulled out the vial. The light scent tickled his nose when she popped open the stopper. “Blue rose!” she said happily.

“You like it then?” he asked. She nodded. “How old are you now? It’s been so many years that you’ve been in the capital, but no one ever celebrates your nameday.”

She shrugged, “Who would celebrate a traitor’s daughter?”

“I would. I did. Though it took me a while,” Sandor pointed out. She smiled at that.

“Eighteen. I was eighteen on my last nameday,” she said, before continuing their walk.


	13. Dinner Bells

He stood behind the king at the evening meal. The little bird had changed into a yellow and red trim dress and was wearing a matching yellow ribbon in her hair. He suspected the ribbon was made from the supplies he had bought her. That brought a smile to his face. The dress was an old one, and fit her better than some of the others she wore, but he hoped she would be able to complete a new dress soon.

He wanted to smirk when he saw that Sansa hadn’t eaten much from her plate. There was little wonder as to why. They had wandered into the kitchens earlier and he had stolen some bread and cheese, along with some wine skins, and they had had a late afternoon picnic in the godswood. They had jokingly called it her belated nameday feast. His cock had been crowing ever since. 

She picked at the fish, taking a small bite whenever Joffrey looked over at her. 

**_~She had dumps like a truck, truck, truck. Thighs like a what, what, what! All night long, let me see that THOOOOONNNNGGGG.~_ **

_ What in the seven hells are you on about now? _

**_~Shake, shake, shake. Shake, shake, shake. Shake yer booty. Shake yer booty.~_ **

_ Do you even know what you're saying half the time?  _

**_~LB, can ya handle this? Big guy, can ya handle this? Joffrey, can ya handle this? I don't think ya can handle this! I don think ya ready for this jelly, cause mah body’s too booteh-licious for ya, babe!~_ **

_ Seriously. Where the hells did you learn those songs? _

**_What songs?_ **

_ The songs you were JUST singing, idiot.  _

**_Ah have no idea what yer on about._ **

_ Ugh, whatever.  _

“Dog.”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Escort my lady back to her chambers.” Joffrey glared at Sansa. “Apparently, the food is not up to her standards tonight.”

Sansa blushed furiously. “My apologies, Your Grace. I am nervous about the impending battle. You will be victorious, of course, but so many will be going into battle and not all will be returning.” Her eyes went wide and she turned to look at Sandor. He scowled at her and she turned back, though Joffrey was stuffing his face and had not noticed where her attention had been directed. “I will make an effort to enjoy this delicious meal.”

“Never mind that. Just get out of my sight,” Joffrey snarled. Sansa nodded and withdrew from the table, with Sandor a few steps behind her. 

Leaving the dining hall, they walked in silence. They were almost to her room when she spoke. 

“You will be by the king’s side in the battle against Stannis, won’t you?” He wondered if it was his imagination that she sounded worried. They stood outside her door. 

“All the kingsguard will be by his side. I am no exception,” he said. “The little bird is worried about the safety of her ‘one true love’?” he asked with chagrin.

She blushed, but looked at him with an even gaze. “I am worried about my protector and my friend. You are the fiercest warrior I know, but I can't help but worry.” She grasped his hands in hers. “Promise me. Swear to me. You will come back. If you make the promise, I won't worry as much.”

His mouth went dry, and he found it difficult to speak, “Why is that?”

She smiled sadly. “‘Because a Hound will die for you, but never lie to you.’ If you swear to come back, then I know you will,” she said softly.

“You want me to come back?”

“Of course. Why else would I ask you to swear it?” she asked, her blue eyes seeing right through him.

“I don't make vows, little bird.”

“That's how I know I can trust you to keep the ones you do make.” She squeezed his hands. “Swear to me, Sandor, swear that you will come back to me.”

“I swear, on my sister’s and mother’s graves, I will come back to you.” The promise left his mouth before he could think about it. 

**_Now kiss her._ **

_ Shut up. _

**_Spoilsport._ **

She didn't even look around before she stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “For luck,” she whispered. “I’ll give you my favor as well, to wear into battle.”

**_The ribbon!_ **

“This will do,” he said, pulling the ribbon from her hair, enjoying the sight of her flame colored locks falling loose. She pulled him into another soft kiss before entering her chambers alone.

He looked down at the ribbon. On the end, a black dog was embroidered on it, along with a small red bird.


	14. Battle of Blackwater Bay

The battle was fierce. He thought his heart was going to fail when the man on fire was charging at him. The arrow to his head stopped him well enough, though it irked him to think that he owed one to the Imp’s pet sellsword. His heart was beating even more rapidly now. Fire. Fire all around him. Red and yellow...and green. He wanted to leave the burning beach. Turn away and run. He caught a glimpse of the yellow ribbon he had wrapped around his wrist, sticking out from the armor.

**_She's the one yer fightin’ for. Not that cunt of a king. The only thing standing between the invaders and her is YOO._ **

Sandor grit his teeth.

**_Let's kill ‘em all._ **

_ Sounds like a plan. _


	15. Never Trusted You

“You were very  _ inspiring _ in the battle, Clegane,” the Imp stated. They were alone in his chambers. The man was even uglier than before, the large gash across his face had healed since the Battle of the Blackwater, but it could not be ignored. 

“If you say so,” Sandor said.

“It came to my attention that you had not been rewarded for the effort you made, at least not by the king.”

**_Little bird showered us with kisses upon our return. More of that please._ **

_ She spends time with us each day, she’s become more comfortable in our presence, even to the point that she can touch my hand, and you get stroked SEVERAL TIMES throughout the day because of that. I think you’ve been rewarded enough. _

“The city is safe, that is enough for me,” Sandor said to Tyrion. 

“Maybe,” the Imp said. “But I have noticed a certain young lady following you around lately.”

Sandor stiffened. 

“Don’t get your small clothes in a twist. The king has no idea. He’s too wrapped up in his new betrothed. I have an offer for you. If you can keep her safe, I will arrange for you to become her betrothed.” Tyrion sipped from the wine cup on his desk. “What do you say to that?”

**_Are you the devil, because ah would give his soul for that deal._ **

“I say, where’s the punchline?” Sandor growled.

“No punchline, I promise. I will name you lord of a suitable estate, and present your impending nuptials to the king and queen.”

Sandor frowned. “Where would you find a ‘suitable’ estate?”

Tyrion gave him a half-smile. “Turns out, a surprising number of men who both defended and attacked Kings Landing left this world without heirs. The estates have since reverted back to the crown. I need to sort through the available ones, but I'm sure I can find one for you. As Master of Coin, it is well within my realm of responsibilities. One estate, one bride, sounds like a reward equal to your valor in battle.”

“Still waiting for the other boot to drop, Imp.”

**_Just take the damn offer, ya daft div!_ **

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “Fine. There is another reason. Varys got word to me that there is a plot by Baelish to steal Lady Sansa away. The gods only know what he plans for her, nothing good, that's for sure. If my father gets wind of this before I can act, he’ll marry ME to her, and beautiful as she is, I’d rather not. She seems quite taken with you, and you are loyal to the Lannisters. It seemed like a good choice.” Tyrion shrugged. “I can always find someone else if you are unwilling.”

**_Ah swear to all the gods that ah will rip mehself from you if you turn him down._ **

“Still feels like you’re holding something back.” 

**_Ah hate ya so much._ **

Tyrion sighed heavily. “She told me she wants to marry you.”

**_What?_ **

“What?”

Tyrion threw his hands up in frustration. “I asked who she would prefer for a match. I told her I would try, but I made her no guarantees. She wants you for a husband. Everything else I said is true, but you were not my first choice for her. More like third, but still. If you say no, I will ask my cousin, Lancel. Do you want the deal or not?”

“You’re sure the king and queen will approve of it?” he asked hesitantly.

“After the yarn I spin for them, they’ll be shoving you both down the aisle,” Tyrion guaranteed.


	16. Hey! Hi... Hullo!

He was following Sansa without her knowledge. He had left his armor in his room. If he was going to approach her to tell her of their impending marriage, he didn’t want her being reminded of his war-like nature. Also, it was easier to sneak around after her if his damn armor wasn’t clinking and clanking all over the damn place. She had been walking aimlessly through the castle and was now walking down the path to the godswood.

**_What are ya waiting for? Go talk to her!!_ **

_ Go. To. The. Seven. Hells. I’ll talk to her when I’m ready.  _

**_Oh. When yer ready. Ah see. So, yer not only a daft div, yer also scared of talkin’ to yer own betrothed!_ **

Sansa stopped walking and gazed at the garden she had come across. Her usual prayer spot was nearby. Sandor inched closer to her slowly, keeping out of her sight.

_ I’m not scared. _

**_Yes, ya are. Ah don’t see what the problem is. She ASKED for it. LITERALLY. Now, the queen thinks this will secure the north for them, and the king thinks he’s making her suffer by marryin’ her to ya. But ya know she cares for ya, and she asked to be married to ya. What more can ya ask for?_ **

_ I...I don’t know. I have a talking cock, I'm a buggering lord and now I’m betrothed to Sansa Stark. It’s unbelievable. _

**_Ah, ya think it might be a dream. And once ya accept the good things, it’ll all go away._ **

_ Something like that. You know, I was never all that...what’s the word? _

**_Introspective?_ **

_ I guess. I never thought so much to myself is what I mean. I’ve always been the one that cracked skulls, drank into oblivion, and faded into the background. _

**_Just...go up to her. Let her know yer here._ **

He stepped closer to Sansa, until he was standing next to her.

“Little bird.”

“Sandor.” She smiled as she continued to gaze at the garden. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so.”

**_Ya suppose?! It's the best day ever!! Tell her the good news already! Repeat after meh, Little bird..._ **

_ Shut up. _

**_Rude! Ah’m just tryin’ ta help. Can ya do better?_ **

He thought for a few moments. “You haven’t made any new gowns yet?”

“Oh, no, I mean, yes, they’re just not done yet. I am out of practice and I’ve been working on smaller pieces before trying to make a gown. Soon, I hope, you will see me in a new dress. I do hope you like it.”

“Oh. Same here. I guess.”

**_Ye are a master of conversation. How do ye do it? Please. Enquiring minds want ta know._ ** The sarcasm was not lost on him. Nor was his ineptitude of even being able to tell her she could wear a burlap sack and he’d still find her beautiful.

_ … _

_ What do you want me to say? _

“Sandor, I'm going to go sit in the garden. If you would join me, I’d like that very much.” She looked up him with her innocent Tully blue eyes. 

His mouth went a little dry. “As you wish, little bird.”

He followed her into the small garden, and sat with her next to a variety of flowering plants. She seemed content to simply sit there in the gentle breeze.

**_Ready?_ **

_ As I’ll ever be. _

**_OK, repeat after meh. Little bird…_ **

“Little bird,” he started.

“Yes, Sandor?”

**_Ah spoke to Tyrion…_ **

“I spoke to the Imp.”

“Oh?” She picked a white flower and twirled it in between her fingers.

**_We are ta be married, as soon as ya want! So let's practice for the bedding!_ **

Sandor shook his head.  _ Now who’s being daft!! I can't say that! _

**_Fine, fine. Just the first part then._ **

_ I don't know... _

“Sandor? Are you alright?” she asked looking at him with concern.

“Uh, yes. I’m...I have something to tell you, I'm just not sure how to say it.” 

“Oh, alright.” She sat there, twirling the flower. “Do you know this flower, Sandor?”

He looked at the small white flower. He had seen it before, on multiple occasions accompanying Sansa, but did not know what it was called. He shook his head. “You made a flower necklace of it once. After…”

**_Well, this is going ta be a fun game..._ **

“After my father died,” she said quietly. “It's called anemone. It symbolizes fading hope and a feeling of being forsaken. But, it can also symbolize anticipation.” She picked another flower. “What about this one?”

“No idea.” It was another white flower, with many petals, almost fluffy looking. “You picked a bouquet after…”

“After the bread riot. It's called chrysanthemum. A white one symbolizes a true and loyal love.” She shifted it to the hand that held the anemone and picked another flower. “This one has an odd name. It’s called stock.” He looked at it. It was also white, with four limp petals on it. “It means, ‘you’ll always be beautiful to me.’”

“You decorated your room with it once,” he said.

**_Didn’t she give ya one of those too?_ **

_ Don’t remember. _

**_Liar._ **

She nodded. “After Joffrey’s nameday tournament, when you helped me.” It joined the anemone and the chrysanthemum, and she picked another flower. It had spiky white petals. 

**_Ah know that one!_ **

“That’s myrtle,” Sandor said softly, staring at the flower. She smiled at him.

“You know it?”

“It was my mother’s favorite. She would pick them and give them to my sister. She told me to watch for them, when it was time for me to marry.” He sighed. It was one of the few good memories he had from childhood.

“It’s a symbol of marriage,” Sansa said. She picked up another flower. “This one?”

He stared at it. He remembered she had given him one after dinner, a thank you for walking her to the godswood so late at night, a white bell shaped flower, that hung from its stem. That was the same day he discovered her trying to hide her first moonblood. “No, I don’t know it.”

“It’s white heather. It grows well in the north. I was surprised to see it here. It’s a symbol of protection, but there’s a story about them.”

“Is there?” he asked with amusement.

**_Oh, ah like stories!_ **

She smiled broader, “Yes. It is said that if you are pure of heart, you can make a wish.”

“Did you ever try?”

She nodded. “Once.”

“What did you wish? Or are you not allowed to say, in case it doesn’t come true?” 

“It came true already.” She twirled the flower, staring at it.

“What was it?” he prodded.

“I wished to know the heart of my protector, and that he may know it as well,” she said.

“And who might that be?” he asked with a frown.

“You.”

He breathed in sharply. “Me?”

**_Us? Do you think that’s why…_ **

_ You suddenly started talking? _

Sansa cleared her throat. “Yes, I believe so.” She blushed furiously.

_ But that...wait a minute...Sansa? _

“Yes?”

**_Little bird?_ **

“Yes?” she squeaked.

“Seven  _ HELLS! _ You can hear him? Hear me?!”

She nodded, unable to look up at him. “Not all the time. Only when you’re in range that I can hear your regular voice, and when you’re talking directly to him. I couldn’t see any images, just hear your voice and  _ his. _ He has a lovely singing voice, even if the songs he sings do not make sense.”   
**_HA! She likes meh singing!_ **

She giggled as Sandor said, “Quiet, you.” He turned to Sansa. “How much have you heard?”

She thought about it. “Well, the first time was in the hallway, he was singing about honey and money--”

“OKAY! Well, shit...you heard the entire conversation between me and...him?” She nodded.

**_Settle the argument, would ya or would ya not have let us take ya up against the wall?_ **

“Why you little--”

“Um...maybe,” she whispered, her blush had gone past her cheeks and her entire face and neck were very red.

Sandor faltered, “Maybe…”

**_Ah knew it! Ah told ya!_ **

“Little bird, you really shouldn’t encourage him,” Sandor scolded her.

She shook her head. “You’d get mad if I told a lie. And I shouldn’t lie to you of all people.”

“Why’s that?”

“We’re to be married. I could hear your conversation, remember? If you are to be my lord husband, I mustn’t lie to you,” she said. “And with that in mind, I have something to confess.”

“Oh? Did you listen in on more conversations?” Sandor teased her. Her blush did not fade as she nodded and she scooted closer to him, until she was able to lean into his side. He frowned at her nod. “Which ones?”

“Um, I followed you to your room that first day. I really was concerned, since I didn’t know yet why I could hear your thoughts and the second voice. I heard...I heard you talking about me...in the throne room...as you watched…”

Sandor’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped a little.

**_OH! The throne room fantasy! That was a good one._ **

Sansa nodded in agreement. “I went back to my room after you, um, finished, and tried to do what I heard you say. I just used my regular chair, since I don’t have a throne in there.” She giggled nervously. “It was enlightening, though I’m not sure I did it right.”

He swallowed hard. The thought of her doing  _ that _ in her room, because of him was doing things to him. “Did...did you enjoy it? Touching yourself?” 

She nodded again. “I did,” she squeaked.

“Then you did it right,” he said, trying to not let images of the scene bombard his mind too much. His cock had gone silent, was listening intently and straining in his breeches. “What else?”

“Um, in the dining hall, when you two were talking about...being tied up…” she whispered. “And wicked ways…”

He pulled her across his lap and leaned in to whisper it in her ear, “And does that interest the little bird?” She nodded her head more eagerly than he had expected. “What else?” he asked, pulling her skirt up to her knee and slipping his hand underneath it. He found warm, smooth skin. Sliding his hand up her thigh, he soon found her smallclothes and pressed against the juncture of her legs. The fabric was more than a bit moist. She grabbed his arm, not to stop him, just to have something to hold onto he suspected.

She hummed with pleasure and tilted her head back a little, giving Sandor the opportunity to lean his head down and nibble at the delicate skin of her neck, before continuing, “In the hallway, when  _ he _ said you’d never make a move, that I’d never make a move. He was right, so I…” he rubbed his fingers against the fabric covering her clit, “Ah! I...decided...to make a move, sort of...throwing myself at you, acting drunk...so that you would...ah! So that...you’d take me in your arms...I listened to  _ him, _ as he directed me how to move, though I couldn’t follow...all the directions. My legs really did...feel like jelly, I was so nervous...but I was exaggerating it...told you I wasn’t...drunk.”

“Such a smart little bird,” he murmured, “getting me to lower my defenses.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she pleaded. She looked up at him with her soulful eyes. “Sandor, please kiss me.”

“Such a proper little bird as well,” he said, leaning down to kiss her soundly. He broke the kiss to whisper, “Will you say please when it comes time for our first bedding?” Her eyes went wide, but she nodded. “What about if I only do this?” He eased his middle finger in between her slick folds as his index finger stroked her clit. She whimpered, gripping his arms tightly and rocking her hips. “Will you ask me oh so nicely to please give you my cock?”

“Yes, Sandor,” she gasped, tremoring under his touch. “I promise I will.”

“Ask me,” he demanded. “Ask me now.”

She was breathing heavily as she looked up at him, “Please Sandor, will you please f-fuck me with your c-cock?”

**_Oh by the gods, please tell meh ah’m not dreamin’!_ **

“Can you undo my laces from there?” Sandor asked her. She shook her head and reluctantly got up from his lap to get better access. He kept his hand on her, his finger slipping in and out her slowly, providing a distraction to her task. She fumbled with the laces three times before getting them undone. His cock burst forth, large and proud.

**_Hullo! We meet at last, little bird!_ **

She sank to her knees, causing Sandor to lose contact, but he did not notice, not when he could feel her breath on the head of his cock.

“Hello,” she whispered, “I suppose I have you to thank, since I wouldn't have known his feelings without your appearance.”

**_Ah am honored to have helped. How about a reward?_ **

“Shut it, you little--”

“Sandor, he’s right, he deserves something,” she said.

“Little bird, he’s already getting _ exactly _ what he wants. What more can you possibly give him?”

She looked up at him and then back at his happily bobbing cock. “I don't know if it is enough, but,” she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on the tip. He would swear his cock blushed. “I hope you know that I will never let Sandor be alone again. And...you...you will always have a home in me.” She blushed as she said it, but she was sincere. “So, thank you, again.”

**_Ah...um, yer welcome, little bird._ **

It was the calmest he had ever heard his cock sound. She smiled and stood back up. Looking at Sandor nervously, she asked, “What do I do now?”

He pulled her into a kiss, sweet and loving. Breaking it, he leaned his forehead against hers. “Do you want to wait for our wedding night? There are other ways for me to take care of him.”

She shook her head and pulled him into another kiss, this one deep and needy. “No, I don’t want to wait. We can wed as soon as it is possible, but right now... Please, Sandor, please fuck me with your cock. You have already granted me the protection of your cloak. You are mine and I am yours.”

“You are mine, I am yours,” he repeated, pulling up the hem of her skirt and quickly undoing her smallclothes. He kept her skirt hiked up and dragged her onto his lap. “I’ll be as gentle as possible, but it will hurt the first few times, but once you get used to it...”

“I trust you,” she whispered. “Tell me what to do.”

“There’s only two options if we do this here. Either on the ground, or while sitting here on the bench.”

She looked at the ground surrounding them. There were fallen leaves and twigs. She shook her head and said, “The bench.”

Pleased with her request, he said, “Ok, then. Face away from me. Now, straddle my lap, like you would a horse. I’ll do all the heavy lifting, so to speak. I’ve carried axes that weigh more than you. All you really need to do is sit down on me. Try not to tense up, it makes it worse. If it becomes too much, tell me, you understand?” She nodded and did as he told her. He held her up easily by her waist. She helped by aligning the head of his cock with her slick entrance, then adjusting her skirt to hide the view, just in case anyone actually did come by. Slowly, she lowered herself, grasping his forearms for balance. 

**_Ah’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s tha law of the west._ **

She winced as he pushed against her maidenhead, and cried out softly as it broke.

“You’re doing good, little bird,” he said encouragingly. He held her there, letting her adjust to his width before lowering her more, slowly, until he was inside her to the hilt.  _ Fuck, she is so tight. _ She was breathing heavily. “Little bird, we can stop. You are new to this and I...I am more to handle than most men.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I’m fine, I just need a minute. Talk to me, tell me what I’ll need to do next.” She leaned back against his chest, and he moved his arms to hug her. If anyone came by, they would only see a woman sitting on a man’s lap, being held tenderly, albeit more intimately than would be socially acceptable.

“Well, once you are ready, you can move however feels good. I don’t really know what makes a woman feel good, but for men, it’s really just slipping in and out, sometimes changing the angle so the cock rubs against the cunt differently for a new sensation.” He began to absentmindedly massage her breasts. She sighed against him in a content manner, so he supposed she liked that.

“What else?” she asked, tilting her head to look back at him, one of her hands wandering up to stroke his face and then into his hair, her fingers tangling and playing with the black strands. “Is there kissing? I like kissing.”

“There can be,” he said quietly. “If you want.” Whores didn’t do kisses, but if the little bird liked kissing him despite his lack of experience in that area, who was he to judge? She smiled and pulled his head down to press her lips to his, chastely at first, then allowing him entrance to her mouth with his tongue. He felt her moan and she began to move, just rocking a little back and forth on him, which normally wouldn’t do too much for him, but it was  _ Sansa  _ who was currently enjoying his cock, it was  _ Sansa  _ who was kissing him despite the burnt side of his face, hells, despite the fact that his mouth didn’t quite close all the way on one side. He felt the joy radiating from his cock, the joy radiating from his own self. 

He burned with the need to thrust into her, but fuck that. The need to please her was stronger. The need to not hurt her was strongest. She changed her movements, still rocking against him, but also pushing down slightly. She whimpered against his mouth, her kiss becoming more demanding, her gentle hand now gripping his hair. It reminded him of a brothel show he had once seen, while substituting for one of Robert’s kingsguard. The whores had danced for the king, gyrating their hips against the men in the audience. 

One arm around her waist to keep her from falling off his lap in her enthusiasm, his other hand not leaving her breast, massaging it rather roughly at this point, but Sansa seemed to like it. Her hand, the one not entangled in his hair, was on her other breast, matching his movements as best she could. The fabric was already too tight on her, and with both their ministrations, her breasts were dangerously close to popping out. Sandor growled at the realization and yanked the fabric down. Sansa squeaked, but made no move to cover up. Her smooth, soft skin was a stark contrast to his rough hands. He felt her constrict around him, squeezing him, not to completion, but it was an indication that she liked the feeling of his hand on her skin. He tweaked her nipple gently, afraid of doing too much and hurting her. Another squeeze from her cunt, and she was grinding down harder on him. He wasn’t doing anything, but his pulse quickened just the same and he could feel his balls tighten up.  _ No! I can’t come before she does! _ Her moans were getting louder. He cupped her breasts with both hands, using his palms to massage them, letting his fingers pinch the hardened nipples in between his knuckles. 

“Sandor...something...I feel…” she whispered, her breath short and fast as her hips worked tirelessly.

“Let it happen, little bird,” he said. “I want you to feel it. I want to feel you feel it.”

He kissed her harshly as she came, muffling her song. They may have been alone in the godswood, but sound could still carry.

**_Ah could die happy right now ~_ **


	17. Silence

The walk back to her room was too short. The castle folk were buzzing with the news of the Clegane-Stark betrothal, the servants and nobles alike were whispering and staring as they walked. Sansa held onto his arm, her legs still wobbly from their coupling in the godswood, and held her other hand to her chest, attempting to hide the rip in the fabric. Her hair was rumpled, her lips plump from their kissing. She looked up at him with stars in her eyes and a blush painting her cheeks. She looked like a woman who had been properly bedded. 

Or raped. He knew where the people’s minds went. They wouldn’t see her afterglow. They would see the red marks from where his beard scratched her delicate skin. They would see the way she walked, how it did not have her usual grace. They would see the starry eyes and think it was tears.

Her maiden’s blood was on his breeches, but they were dark enough that the stain was not obvious. What a sight they must have made. Joffrey was bound to hear of this. Maybe it was better that way, let them tell the king how his favorite pet ruined his favorite toy for all other men.

“Keep your head down, girl,” he whispered. She looked at him questioningly, but did as he said. “Try not to look so happy either.”

“But...I  _ am _ happy. Aren’t you?” she whispered. He heard the tremor in her voice.  _ She’s scared. Not of me, at least, I don’t think so. So if not me then… _ This is where he expected to hear his cock jump in and tell him what to do next, but nothing happened.

_ Is he...is he gone? _ He should feel elated, but all he felt was disappointment. As annoying as the prick had been, he had been quite helpful, too. Sighing, he realized that he would have to answer Sansa on his own. 

“It’s not...I am happy, little bird. But,” he didn’t want to tell her his fear, lest she start to fear their separation by the king as well.

She looked around, making sure there was no one else in the vicinity. “Sandor, please, you can tell me. If I can help in any way, I will.”

He sighed, debating internally what he should do. Finally, her silent pleas won out. 

“If the king should learn that being with me makes you happy…”

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “I hadn’t thought of that. That’s why you said that?” 

He nodded. “You look like one who has been bedded. Roughly. If you keep your head down and a smile off your pretty face, the king will think that I raped you and that I am making you suffer.”

“I don’t want anyone to think wrongly of you,” she said, frowning. “But if the king knows about the happiness, he might try to destroy it, won’t he?”

Sandor clenched his jaw and nodded. He had just been given a taste of heaven. He’d be damned if he let that little cunt take it from him.


	18. Misreading the Situation

“Well, you certainly wasted no time,” he heard from behind and below him. Sandor turned to see the Imp walking up to him, his pet sellsword at his heels. He made no response and walked past them both, his practice sword in his hand. He was feeling good after the eventful day he had yesterday, and had gotten to the training yard early. The look on the Imp’s face was clashing with that. He almost wished his cock still spoke, because he would surely have a good jape about it.

“Joffrey is pleased,” the Imp continued. “By the time the story reached his ears, she was beaten bloody and was nearly dead from your cock tearing her in half.”

“Figures. And you’re telling me because?”

“Because I asked you to keep her safe. Not accost her at the first chance!” Tyrion hissed.

Sandor grit his teeth. “Have you talked to her yet?”

“I’m going there next. I will be offering her a chance to change her mind about the betrothal.”

“Is that all? Then I’ve got nothing to worry about,” Sandor said, relaxing visably. 

“Did you threaten her?!”

“Just go talk to her,  _ Imp.” _


	19. Fiery Lady

Tyrion returned near the end of his training session, and waited for him to finish, speaking with Bronn. Sandor was tired, sweaty and just wanted to get back to his room to freshen up before going to see his Sansa.

“Well?” he asked gruffly, tossing the now broken practice sword to the side. Meryn had just learned why it was best to not make jokes about sharing another man’s woman.

Tyrion looked contrite. “She did not wish to break the betrothal.”

“And?”

“And I have nothing more to say on the matter,” the Imp said, turning his head away from Sandor.

“She slapped him.”

“Bronn, what did we discuss?” Tyrion asked, an edge in his voice. Bronn only rolled his eyes.

“No, you discussed it. I only listened and disagreed. She’s just going to tell him later.” The sellsword turned to him, “She thought he was joking at first. But any fool could see she was fine, that  _ if _ she was no longer a maiden, then it wasn’t because she was forced. This one, however,” he pointed to Tyrion, who was looking affronted by the entire ordeal, “wasn’t listening to reason. Kept insisting that she needn’t be scared of you, that if you forced her, there was still time to get her another betrothal. Tried to tell him she was the last person who needed to fear you, but she slapped him one good. Nearly took his head off, I’d say. Told him to arrange to have the wedding as soon as possible and she would forget the insult she had just endured. Fiery little lady you got there.”

Sandor remembered the day he had stopped her from pushing Joffrey into the dry moat. “You have no idea.”


	20. Smile Protector

The walk to Sansa’s room was awkward at best. All the servants scurried away from him faster than usual, and the nobles weren’t much better, but it was the knights that were the worst. Their sniggering was annoying at best, their snide comments grating and the jovial nature they seemed to think would be welcome only earned them pain and renewed fear. More than a few sets of armor gained considerable dents on that walk.

He knocked on her door. That uppity maid, the foreign one, glared at him when she opened the door.

“Here to see your lady,” he said.

“You keep your hands off her,” the maid sneered, “Or I will make a new friend for the eunuch out of you.”

“Shae!” he heard from inside the room. “He can lay hands on me if he wants, he is my betrothed.”

The maid scoffed, “I never said you had to keep your hands off him, just him off of you. Tease him, make him wait for it, and it will taste all the sweeter on your wedding night.”

Sandor raised an eyebrow at her. Sansa appeared and pushed Shae gently out the door. “I will consider your advice, but for now, you are relieved of duty. Go see Tyrion or something,” Sansa said cheerfully. She shooed Shae out and pulled Sandor in, shutting the door and locking it.

“Little bird would be wise to listen to the Lorathi woman,” he grumbled good-naturedly. 

“So...you wish for me to tease you? And  _ not _ let you find...um…” her face went bright red, “a release?” she squeaked out.

“If you should choose,” he said. “Who am I to deny my highborn wife-to-be?”

“I don’t know how to tease you though,” she said sadly. He chuckled.

“Probably for the best, for now. You’ll learn. In the meantime, I come with good news. The Imp has arranged for our wedding.” Sansa clasped her hands together.

“Truly?! When is it?” she asked excitedly. Sandor mentally shook himself. Never would he have believed her to be excited to hear when she would be given in marriage to the heinous Hound.

“In a sennight’s time, little bird.”

“A sennight?! But there’s so much to do!” 

“It will be a small affair, and Cersei is doing the planning…” he said.

“What? Oh, no, not that. I mean, she was gloating so much about my supposed ‘let down’, I figured she would probably end up planning the wedding itself. No, I mean our cloaks. I started on yours already, and I’m nearly done. Mine, on the other hand, I don’t really have time to make a whole new maiden’s cloak. Well, I suppose I can dye that old cloak Shae found, put some silver trim on it. I would still need to embroider the direwolf sigil… I need my charcoal and sketch papers.” She walked over to her little desk and pulled out some papers. He walked up behind her as she started sketching. 

_ Her hands are so nimble and quick, _ he thought as she began drawing out the direwolf. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head. She looked up and smiled at him.  _ I would do anything to protect that smile. _


	21. Loyal Dog

The day of their wedding arrived all too soon. Sandor felt nothing but nerves as he stood next to the septon. What if she changed her mind? What if he messed up the ceremony? What if… What if this really was a dream and he would wake up as soon as she became Lady Sansa Clegane? Crazy as it was, his talking cock had been there to help him through the times when he felt like life was about to kick him in the nuts. He grasped at the hem of the cloak on his shoulders, made by the woman about to become his wife. It helped ground him to the present, to the reality happening around him. He still missed the cocky idiot, especially at times like this.

He sighed, turning his thoughts to Sansa. Their moments together had been hurried and too short the past sennight. True to what the snarky handmaiden had said, his tension right now also came from holding back for so many days. Sansa, while uneducated in the usual feminine wiles, had plenty of her own. Her sweet, innocent touches, her loving kisses, the unknowingly sultry looks she would give him, they all did nothing but entice him and make him want more. He had done his best to return the teases, but she never looked more than slightly ruffled when they had to part.

The doors opened, the sunlight streaming in behind her. Tyrion met her at the top of the stairs. Joffrey was supposed to walk Sansa down the aisle, as “father of the realm”, but as a wedding gift to Sansa, Margaery had gotten it into his head that he should take a hunting party out to the kingswood. 

Tyrion patted Sansa’s hand, and they began the long walk down the stairs, across the seven-pointed star and up the steps to the altar. She kept her eyes on his, and he could tell she was biting the inside of her lower lip. Something that normally make him want to kiss her, but right now was only making him more nervous.

_ Any minute now...she’s going to realize what a mistake she’s making, she’ll turn the other way and run out the door. _

Tyrion handed her off to Sandor, and stood to the side. The septon began the ceremony. Her maiden’s cloak was discarded, handed to the snarky handmaiden to hold, and his own cloak was draped over her shoulders. They said the words, “I am yours. You are mine,” and kissed to seal the pact. 

The feast afterwards was small, and Sansa was dutiful, feeding him from their trencher, dancing with the people she was supposed to dance with, even getting him to dance the first dance with her. He felt out of place, but it was worth it to see her smile.

Soon they were ushered up to their shared quarters. A single glare from the Hound had silenced any talk of the bedding ceremony. “You’ll get your damned bloody sheet in the fuckin’ mornin’!” he snarled as he took Sansa from the feast. She was silent on the walk, and it wasn’t until they were behind closed doors that she spoke.

“How?” she asked.

“How what?” He was pulling his armor off, letting it drop to the floor with a series of clangs. Sansa started picking it up and placing it on the chair neatly.

“How will you get them a bloody sheet?” she explained. “You already...I mean...we…” she was blushing profusely, but the small smile on her lips told him she had had no regrets about what they had done.

“Ah, that. A little prick to the skin, not yours, of course,” he assured her when her eyes went wide. “Mine. I already prepared it. Your handmaiden, Shar? The insolent one.”

“Oh, that’s Shae.”

“Right, Shae, she has it. She’ll ‘strip’ the bed in the morning, and take it to the Imp and the Grand Maester. She assured me that it looks alright, and that the maester shouldn’t be able to tell the difference.” He removed the final piece of armor, and began stripping off his clothing. He was completely naked before he realized she was still fully clothed.  _ Shit, I was right. She is changing her mind. _ Her eyes were glued to the floor.

“Little bird...we..you don’t…we don’t have to...”

**_Don’t even think it!_ **

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I thought you were gone for good,” Sandor growled.

Sansa giggled.

**_Hullo, birdie!_ **

“G-good evening. I was wondering where you had gone...um...you know, I don’t know what to call you,” she said, tilting her head to the side, a smile on her lips.

“You can call him gone.”

**_Rude! Ya missed me and ya know it! We had so much fun tha other day, that ah was just tuckered out. Ah was resting. It’ll probably happen again, but ah’ll be back, until this div doesn’t need meh anymore. By tha looks of it, that won’t be anytime soon. Ye can call me...Saaco._ **

“Saaco?” Sandor asked.

**_Short for Sandor’s cock!_ **

“Shouldn’t it be Sanco, then?” he asked. Sansa was covering her mouth with both hands, trying not to laugh. Sandor sighed. At least he amused his little wife, if nothing else.

**_Sanco? That just sounds silleh._ **

Sandor rolled his eyes, but said nothing to that.

“Saaco, what were you saying? Don’t even think what?” Sansa asked, sitting next to Sandor. His cock, or Saaco, leaned towards her.

**_This daft div was about to tell ya that ya didn’t need to have the bedding. Ever._ **

“What?” She looked up at Sandor, “Why? Don’t you want to?”

“Of course I do, just look at  _ him, _ ” he pointed at his cock, refusing to call him by Saaco. His cock was fully erect, and had been at various states of arousal since they had kissed on the altar. It had been a secondary reason he had not participated much at the feast.

“But then...why?” she asked again. He looked away from her. She took his hand. “Sandor, talk to me.”

“I…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

**_He thinks ya don’t want him anymore._ **

“WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?!” Sandor shot up from the bed and paced around the room. “Look, I know I’m not good enough for her, alright?! I’m just the second son of a minor house that got lucky and somehow managed to get a lordship and a betrothal to the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros! I have no idea what it takes to be a noble. I come from a shit house, a shit family, and I’ve only been of use to people when I follow orders! I have no right to be her husband! None! I’m just a dog, a loyal hound to shit masters, and that’s all I will ever be!”

“Sandor,” she called to him. He turned to her. She was still sitting on the bed, looking very prim and proper. “Come here.” She extended her hand, gesturing to the space next to her.

“Little bird…”

“I said,  _ come!” _ Her voice was sharp and he walked to the side of the bed immediately. She pointed to the bed.  _ “Sit.” _ He did. He was unsure of what was going on, but the ability to follow commands was ingrained in him. She stood up and planted herself in front of him, facing away. She pointed to her back. “Undo my laces. Please.”

He fought back a smile. Her courtesies were just as ingrained in her, as well. He fumbled with the laces at first, they were so small, and his fingers were not made for such a delicate task. Once he was done, she loosened the garment from her body and turned around. “Take the dress off me.” That he could happily do, letting the garment pool at her feet. He sucked in a breath when he saw she wasn’t wearing her smallclothes.

“Sansa...where are…” he gestured to general area, suddenly shy. 

“What? Oh, over there.” She pointed to the abandoned smallclothes near the door. She shrugged. “It was the only thing I could take off on my own.”

“Wait, so the reason you hadn’t undressed yet…”

“Because I couldn’t, not without help. I was going to ask you, but you were so…. _ naked, _ and I was having a hard time forming words, so I was trying to calm myself, and then you started saying we didn’t have to, and then Saaco showed up again…”

**_Just in time, ah think._ **

“Hush, Saaco,” Sansa scolded lightly. She stepped closer to Sandor, stood in between his thighs, her hands on the either side of his head, and looked into his eyes. “Sandor, please, if you ever have any doubts, just tell me. And as for you having no right to be my husband… Maybe you don’t,” He winced. “But I have every right to be your wife, and if you won’t take your rights as husband, then I will take mine.” She leaned in close to him, her breath hot on his ruined ear, her bare breasts pressed against his chest, and whispered, “If I have to  _ order _ you, then I will.  _ But, _ I promise I will be a kind and loving mistress to my loyal hound.” Both he and his cock stood up straighter at that. She leaned back so that she could see his face again. “King Robert did advise Father to get me a dog. Said I would be happier for it. I don’t think this is what he meant, but I’m rather happy with you. Are you ready to follow orders, soldier?”

He nodded. He was fairly certain his cock nodded too.

She blushed deeply, but said, “Good. Then I order you: Fuck me with your cock. Make me come for you. Make me say your name, over and over again. You have been teasing me this past sennight, driving me crazy from want. Do you know how hard it was to sit through that feast when all I wanted was to drag you back here? I demand satisfaction.”

Now that was something he could handle.


End file.
